Slow Burn
by escapewithstories
Summary: A busy week combined with a day filled with heated glances and teasing touches has brought them to this moment.


I'm back with my second fic for Jean and Lucien, and it is once again a bit smutty. I would apologize, but I'm unashamed. There's something about these two that just calls for it XD

A huge thanks to my beta and partner in crime, IReadAndWriteSometimes. Thank you for always pushing me to do better and improve my writing. You're pretty much the best :)

* * *

 **Slow Burn**

It was so _, so_ good that she never wanted it to end, yet so, _so_ slow that she'd never be able to fall over the edge at this pace.

They had been building up to this moment all day, with furtive glances full of heat, and discreet, teasing touches against an arm or back when they briefly passed each other in the hall. There was never time to act on them, however, due to the revolving door of patients that Lucien had seen to throughout the day. Over the last week, Jean had to reschedule a significant number of appointments, more so than usual, due to a complicated case that kept him extremely busy. He had hardly been home more than a few moments, mostly to eat or change his clothes, and occasionally catching a few hours of sleep, before dashing off once again. As a result, they had hardly seen each other, and much to both of their dismay, his first free day following the closing of the case was taken up by the rescheduled back-to-back appointments.

By the time he had seen the last patient, Jean had already had dinner on the table and Matthew had joined them. Their casual flirting had continued throughout the meal, and despite their best attempts, they were apparently not as surreptitious in their actions as they believed. Matthew cleared his plate in record time and left shortly after, barely managing to grumble out an excuse of paperwork that needed to be completed at the station as he hobbled towards the front door.

Matthew's swift exit had encouraged Lucien to also finish his dinner rather expediently and he even assisted Jean with the clean up afterwards. Their progress may have been slightly hindered, for the teasing touches had become more overt and the loaded glances had been replaced by heated kisses. When one clumsy hand-off caused a plate to clatter to the floor and shatter, Jean decided that the remaining dishes in the sink would have to wait, and she grabbed Lucien by his tie and practically dragged him out of the kitchen. By the time they stumbled into their bedroom, clothing removed and haphazardly thrown to the floor, Jean was certain tonight would be one of their fast and rough rolls in the sheets to take the edge off, which she didn't mind in the least because it was never any less satisfying, but as always, Lucien managed to surprise her.

After they tumbled onto the bed and Lucien entered her in a single, forceful stroke, instead of the rapid, pounding thrusts she expected, he pulled out at an excruciatingly slow pace before entering her again just as unhurried. He then repeated the movement over and over, not once increasing the tempo, and in the haze of desire, she lost track of how long he had been moving over her. It was maddening, yet so delicious, for on every downstroke he would grind his pelvis ever so slightly against hers, creating a wonderful friction that sent tingles of pleasure up her spine. All the while his lips trailed kisses across her eyelids, down one of her cheeks and the long column of her throat, then up the other side, before repeating the action over again. Occasionally his head would dip lower, the rough hairs on his beard scratching against the soft skin of her chest as his mouth and tongue toyed with one of her nipples, but he never stayed long before moving on. It was only enough to spark a small flame low in her belly, not ignite the full fire she needed to reach her climax. His measured and deliberately teasing ministrations were exquisitely infuriating, but if Lucien was willing and able to maintain the current languid pace of their love-making, then she was perfectly content revelling in the indescribable and so, so pleasurable sensations that he was evoking throughout her entire body.

Jean was not an inactive participant as Lucien moved above and in her. Her hands traced indistinguishable patterns across his shoulders and down his back. She lightly scratched her nails up his ribcage in the way she knew he loved, and smiled every time the action rewarded her with a delighted groan pressed against her skin. As her foot traveled up the back of his thigh, she marveled at the feel of his muscles flexing and releasing with each of his thrusts. No matter how many times they had been in similar circumstances, the strength and power in Lucien's body never failed to amaze her, especially when it was solely focused on pleasing her. She thought that passion may dwindle with time, but so far, a little more than two years into their marriage, that had not been the case. She could confidently say she returned that passion with equal fervor.

As Lucien's head dipped low again, taking in a mouthful of her breast, the hand that was resting at Jean's hip drifted down her thigh to capture her leg just behind the knee. He hitched it up higher on his torso, and although he did not increase the tempo of his movement, the change in angle in combination with the pressure his teeth applied to her nipple caused Jean to gasp in surprise before releasing a long moan. That simple adjustment obliterated whatever contentment she felt at letting him continue with this sedate pace. The sparks in her core were stoked to a small flame, but it still wasn't enough. She needed _more_. With one hand she gripped the hair at the back of his head, keeping him in place lest he tried to move away again, and the other skimmed down the long muscles of his back until she reached his bum.

"Lucien," her voice was pleading, and rather than verbally beg for more, she dug her nails into the skin and pulled his hips more firmly into hers.

Lucien released her breast with a pop and chuckled into her skin. His tongue traced a wet path across her chest to her other nipple. "Too slow, my darling?" he asked knowingly before his teeth clamped down roughly on the pebbled flesh.

"Yes," she gasped out as her back arched up off the bed.

Rather than immediately give into her pleas, Lucien continued with his same torturous pace for a few more strokes until Jean let out an impatient huff and once again attempted to speed up his movements by grabbing his behind, this time with both hands, and arched her hips up as she pushed his down.

With tiny nibbles, his lips traveled up until they reached her jaw where he gave her one last nip before finally catching her lips in a deep kiss. Slipping his hands between her back and the bed, he braced his knees on the mattress and lifted his body, bringing her along with him, until he was sitting back on his heels, allowing her legs to drape around him.

Jean giggled at the sudden change in movement, and resettled her body so that she was balanced more evenly across his lap, causing Lucien to sink more deeply into her and the perfect amount of pressure to be applied to her clit. A satisfied whimper escaped her lips and Lucien smiled cheekily at the response.

Although she had been eager to move things along just seconds before, Jean paused to take a moment and appreciate Lucien's disheveled appearance. She loved seeing him like this. His hair was an unruly mess, no doubt caused by her own hands tugging at the short locks, and the ends of his beard were no longer neatly brushed down. She suspected their disarray was a result of him using the coarse hairs to tease and tickle the sensitive skin of her neck and chest. Jean cupped his cheek, smiling when, as expected, his eyelids fluttered closed and he nuzzled into her palm. With her thumb, she traced his upper lip before moving on to his lower. The tender flesh was slightly swollen and red from the constant kisses he had bestowed upon her. Ducking her head, she let her tongue follow the same path as her thumb before firmly planting her lips against his, drawing out a slow kiss from him before releasing his mouth once again. She leaned back to scan his face once more, and when he opened his eyes again, he was wearing that besotted look reserved only for her. It never failed to make her heart flutter.

"I love–" Jean's breath hitched when Lucien chose that moment to flex his hips, driving himself deeper into her. "You," she finished on an exhale.

His grin was positively smug at being able to unhinge her so easily, so in retaliation Jean flexed her pelvic muscles, squeezing him more tightly inside her.

"Bloody hell, Jean," Lucien groaned as he hugged her body tighter to him and his head dropped to rest against her shoulder.

At the underlying pleading tone in Lucien's voice, Jean's earlier resolve to speed things up returned. Planting her feet on the mattress beneath them, she gathered the leverage she needed and slowly began shifting her hips against his. It didn't take him long to begin matching her thrust for thrust, and when Jean picked up her momentum, he assisted her movements by grasping her hips to repeatedly lift and lower her onto him. He was hitting her in all the right places in this position—from the way he dragged across the front of her walls on every retreat, then hitting that perfect spot each time he re-entered her, to the grinding of his pubic bone against her nub when he'd roughly pull her back down—and the fire inside her reached a full blaze faster than she anticipated. Her moans were no longer breathy, but hoarse shouts that continued to increase in volume until she finally let out one final cry when the tension in her core finally exploded and the most wonderful, inexplicable sensation radiated throughout the entirety of her body. The pulsing of her walls around his member caused Lucien to lose what little control he had left. Gliding his hands up Jean's back, he hooked his hands over her shoulders and gripped them tightly, forcibly yanking her down against him as he plunged into her one final time, a growl that bordered on a roar erupting from his throat.

The room was now silent except for the sounds of their heavy breaths. Jean could still feel that tingling sensation up and down her spine, but she was spent. Her arms hung limp at her sides, unable to wrap them around her husband like she wanted. Most of her body's weight rested heavily against Lucien's, and she barely managed to press lazy, tired kisses to the skin that she could reach from where her head rested against his shoulder. She wanted to bask in the feeling forever.

Lucien's palms were gently caressing her back from hips to shoulders, simply relishing being able to just hold and touch her again without interruptions. A week was far too long in his opinion. With each calming breath he took, he inhaled the faint scent of her shampoo, and the feeling of finally being home washed over him. He wanted to hold her like this for an eternity, but his ankles and calves were beginning to ache from sitting back on them for so long. Very gently, he shifted his body forward and once again laid Jean back against the pillows at the head of the bed. In the process, he finally slipped from inside her, eliciting a dissatisfied groan from her throat.

"Sorry, love," he whispered in her ear before kissing the sensitive skin just below it.

He lifted his body away from hers, intending to plop down on the bed beside her, but Jean wrapped her arms around his neck and shoulders, pulling him back down against her, and softly said, "Not yet."

It delighted him that she felt the same longing need to be so close, and so as not to crush her with his full weight, he shifted until half of his body rested against the mattress, and the other half rested against hers. The hum of approval she gave had him smiling into her shoulder. Now that they finally had time alone, they were both content to simply lie there in a comfortable silence, with Jean's nails lightly scratching at his scalp and Lucien's fingers delicately tracing circles on her hip. No words were needed, the unspoken 'I missed you's,' were inherently understood. They had never needed many words to convey their thoughts to one another, everything was easily said through the gentle touches and meaningful looks they shared. The peace they found with each was the greatest gift they had been given after the years of pain and loneliness they had endured separately.

Still, even though they were both happy enjoying a quiet evening at home with one another, Lucien wanted to give her more. Now that they were married, they no longer were confined to hiding their relationship behind doors. After returning home from their honeymoon, they had been out to dinner a few times and gone to the cinema on occasion, but that was mostly it. Since another trip around Europe wasn't feasible at the moment, something a little closer to home would have to suffice.

"I've been thinking," Lucien shifted them so that they were both lying on their sides, facing one another.

He was distracted by a lock of curls that tumbled down across her face, and he took a moment to tuck it behind her ear. The small smile she rewarded him with then drew his attention to her lips, and he couldn't resist the urge to cover them with his own. He had intended for it to be a small, chaste kiss, but her soft, pliant mouth begged for more and he had to oblige.

Jean laughed softly against his mouth when he got carried away and gently pushed him back with a hand at his chest. "You've been thinking," she tapped his lips with a finger when he blindly tried to lean back in, reminding him he was about to tell her something.

"Yes, right." Lucien shuffled back slightly so he could get a full view of her beautiful face. "I've been thinking that maybe we should take an extended weekend and drive up to Melbourne. Just get away together for a little bit."

"Oh?" Jean eyes widened in surprise, this she was not expecting.

"Perhaps we can see what's showing at the theatre," Lucien shrugged the shoulder he wasn't lying on, "and maybe do a little shopping."

Jean looked at him suspiciously, shopping wasn't his idea of an enjoyable afternoon. "You want to go shopping?"

Lucien smiled sheepishly at her. "I thought you might want to get a new set of dishes."

"Why," Jean's eyes glittered playfully and her voice took on a teasing lilt, "so you can murder all of them, too?"

Lucien responded with a mock glare, but it turned to a wide grin when she began giggling. "I promise," he laid a hand on his chest, just over his heart, "I will not touch a single new dish unless it's to enjoy a cuppa or one of your delicious meals."

Jean did not respond verbally, rather she arched a single brow as she stared steadily back at him. They both knew that if he was preoccupied by the particulars of a case, he wouldn't take notice of what dish he was grabbing, as long as it suited his needs in that moment.

"You could at least show a little faith in me. Besides," Lucien's lips puckered out in a pout. "I'm not the only one responsible for murdering the dishes."

Jean giggled again as she scooted closer and placed a light, apologetic kiss to his downturned lips. There was no teasing in her tone when she said, "Of course I have faith in you." Draping her body over his, one of her legs thrown over the both of his and her head resting on his chest, she sighed wistfully. "I'd love to spend a short holiday in Melbourne with you."

"Good." Lucien clutched her closer and placed a kiss to the top of her head. "Perhaps we can look at going next weekend."

"Hmm," Jean nuzzled his neck, "I'll make sure no appointments are scheduled and you'll talk to Matthew."

Lucien's hand drifted down her back and when he reached her hip, he gave it a light squeeze and said, "Yes, and Alice." His friend would be filling in for him if a case happened to arise while he was gone.

They laid there just a little while longer, Lucien was close to nodding off, until Jean shivered against him, the cool air of the room finally making its presence known. His voice was no more than a mumble when he asked, "Can I interest you in a shower?"

Jean propped her chin on his chest so that she could look up at him. Her eyes were drooping and her smile was tired, but she still responded, "Definitely."

Once again, there was no rush to Lucien's movements as he rose from the bed and lifted Jean with him. Their trek to the bathroom was halted several times by him stopping simply just to kiss her.

After the third interruption, Jean playfully admonished him, saying, "We can do this in the tub."

Lucien took her suggestion to heart. As the tub was filling, he pushed Jean back against the vanity and kissed her until they were both breathless. If it wasn't for the possibility of the water overflowing, Jean would've gladly let him continue the rest of the night. Instead, she nudged him towards the tub, indicating for him to climb in first as she shut off the valves.

Lucien was washing her body, using the same attentive and purposeful movements as he did while they made love, assuring that every inch of her was lathered. "We don't do this enough," he mumbled, distracted, as his hands ran smooth circles that slowly decreased in diameter around each of her breasts.

Jean let out a soft moan before answering in a whisper. "That's because there isn't much room in here."

As though to prove her point, Jean attempted to widen her legs, but was unsuccessful for they were trapped inside of his which were already tightly pressed against the sides of the tub.

One of Lucien's hands skimmed down her torso and he teasingly swirled a finger in the curls he found at her apex. "I think there's plenty of room," his voice tumbled in her ear just before he sucked the lobe in his mouth and nibbled on it.

"Hmm," Jean smiled as she lifted a hand to hold his head in place, "perhaps you're right." Her smile widened as she felt as much as she heard the chuckle so close to her ear.

He was reluctant to do so, but he eventually rinsed the soap from her body using the washcloth that was draped over the tub. When Jean raised herself up from her inclined position, he expected her to step out of the tub, instead she turned and repositioned herself so that she could face him. It took quite a bit of maneuvering, and a few curse words slipping from his mouth along with some water sloshing over the side, but they managed to get resituated so that she was partially sitting on his lap and her legs were not encasing his.

Once they were settled, she looked over at him with that singular arched brow as though to say, "I told you so," but Lucien gripped her by her bum and tugged her a tad bit closer and cheekily said, "Still plenty."

Jean didn't even bother to disguise her smile as she picked up the bar of soap and lathered up her own hands with it. She took her time, even more time than he had, as she ran her hands over his broad chest and the bulky muscles of his arms. He was so often covered by one of his three-piece suits, which honestly didn't bother her, and the only time she was able to admire his naked forms was when they were like this. Even then, there wasn't always ample time so she made sure to take advantage of it. Lucien didn't seem to mind as he reclined back and simply watched her face intently. She smiled when his muscles twitched as her fingers danced up his ribs. It turned into a soft giggle when he attempted to suck in the rounded pooch of his belly as her hands skimmed over it. She leaned forward and kissed him then, letting him know she adored every inch of him and there was no need to worry. He had eased her own concerns many times over.

When they finally exited the tub, the water had gone cold, but neither of them minded all that much. They each wrapped themselves up in their robes, and while Jean was attempting to tame her wild curls, Lucien offered to make them some tea. He laughed happily when he reached the kitchen and remembered they had left quite the mess. It made the sight all the more pleasing to know he was not the only one responsible for it. He lit the burner for the kettle, before he focused on cleaning up the remnants of the shattered plate. In the time it took the water to fully heat, he was able to finish the few dishes that remained and wipe down the table and counters.

Jean came shuffling in just as he lifted the saucers holding their teacups. "You cleaned everything up." The surprise in her tone was easily detectable. She met him halfway and instead of taking the proffered drink, she stretched up on her toes and planted a light kiss across his lips. "Thank you."

Lucien chased her mouth as she dropped back down to her heels. "My pleasure." Standing straight again, he handed off her tea and nodded towards the living room, "Would you like to watch television, or," he then tilted his head toward their room, "sit by the fire."

It wasn't quite chilly enough for a fire, but Jean also didn't like the idea of Matthew coming home to find them in their robes, obvious they were fresh out of the shower. She figured they had scarred him enough for one evening, so she ultimately said, "Sit by the fire."

Besides, the fire seemed awfully fitting for the slow burn that had building between them throughout the day, the same burn that she could feel igniting once again as Lucien dropped a final kiss to her lips before guiding her to their room with a hand at the small of her back.

~End~

* * *

A/N: Any comments or reviews would be greatly appreciated. Please let me know what you think :)


End file.
